


build your castle into me

by nayanroo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, allura really likes seeing him on his knees in front of her, but who can really blame her, marrieds, throne!sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 04:23:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12124425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nayanroo/pseuds/nayanroo
Summary: The night before Allura's coronation, she tells her husband how nervous she is, how worried she is that she won't be a good queen.  And, being a good husband, Shiro helps her relax.





	build your castle into me

**Author's Note:**

> I guess it's my goal to write all my royalty ships getting that good good oral sex on their thrones at some point.

The thing about being the husband of a head of state—or, well, _de facto_ head of state until tomorrow—was that one was expected to show up at _every single party_ thrown in celebration of the reestablishment of an Altean presence in the universe. For Shiro, who was also alien to large swaths of the Alliance, it also meant hours and hours of feeling like he was under a magnifying glass; _everyone_ wanted to talk to the Black Paladin, the human who had endured torture at the hands of the Galra and had made such an impression on the last Altean royal that she’d married him. Unfortunately, this interest usually came in the form of the _same questions_ , over and over.

Yes, he really had fought off every opponent in Zarkon’s arena.

Yes, they’d really used his arm to gather information for their sleeper agent program. No, he hadn’t known at the time, and _no_ , they couldn’t touch the silvery-white replacement that had been machined out of a remnant of comet ore. _Yes,_ the same comet ore that Voltron and the Dragon, Lotor’s answer to Voltron, had been made of. Usually that answer caused a small exodus to the Emperor of the Galran Remnant, but Lotor had had to make a secure communication to the council he’d left in charge while attending Allura’s coronation, so Shiro remained the most interesting man in the room.

Usually, he could rely on Allura the consummate diplomat to take his arm, thank the curious guests for their attendance, and contrive some conversation that she needed him for… but she’d disappeared some time ago, and while Shiro tried to keep her in his line of sight (partly out of habit, partly because he just liked to watch her move about a room and charm people), he’d lost her in the crowd.

“Was your arm _really_ made from the same ore as Voltron, and the Dragon?”

Shiro took a long pull from his cup of nunvill and hoped his smile looked more sincere than he felt it was. “It was. Once we realized they were using my arm, and the arms of the other subjects, as a sort electronic—“

“Can I touch it?”

“No—oh, there’s Coran, I’ve got to go—“

Maybe it was a little rude to run away from guests who were ostensibly there in honor of your wife, but Shiro thought that Allura _probably_ didn’t want him to start an interstellar incident the night before her coronation. He dodged clusters of guests as he half-jogged across the ballroom toward a very familiar, very welcome mustache.

“Oh! Hello, Shiro. Enjoying the party?”

“I’d rather be getting sleep, tomorrow’s supposed to be a long day—“ with more parties, he remembered, but luckily they’d only chosen three to attend in person “—but, well, it’s going all right.”

“Everyone still wants to touch the arm, hm?”

“It’s… a pretty big draw. Hey, have you seen Allura? She took off a while back.”

“I saw her head through to the throne room. I think she wanted some time alone, I was about to go check on her.”

“I’ll do it. Cover for me if anyone—“ he paused, looking up as a stir went through the guests. “Ah, never mind. Our best friend just came back to the party.”

Coran looked over too, tugging on the end of his mustache. There’d been… significant progress made, but for Coran, looking at Lotor reminded him too much of who Lotor’s parents had been, and the damage they’d wrought on his life. But he nodded and put a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.

“I’ll deflect if anyone asks for you,” he said. “Best go check on our Princess.”

The throne room was full of the golden light of sunset; transparent particle barriers between the columns let in light but kept out the elements, and the result was a large chamber that nevertheless seemed airy and brilliant, rather than gloomy. At the far end of the room, lit by a single beam of light, was the throne that Allura would sit upon tomorrow, the first Queen of Altea in ten thousand years. Right now, though, she stood in front of it, so lost in thought that she didn’t even turn around until he was but a few steps away.

“Oh, Shiro. I’m sorry, I should get back to the party, I didn’t even think about how rude this is.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about it. They’re all pretty distracted.”

“Lotor?”

“Yeah, he just came back. That’s how I was able to get away.”

“I suppose he’s useful.”

Allura sighed then, rubbing at her forehead, turning into Shiro’s embrace when he put an arm around her shoulders. They’d had the discussion—it hadn’t been something he’d planned, ever, falling in love with royalty, and Allura had made it plain that if, if, _if_ they won the war, if she could establish a place for the Altean diaspora to return to, if she could at least put her people back on the path to a _home_ , he would need to be her rock, the foundation she could always rely on. For Shiro it had been so natural to agree. If Allura needed him to be her touchstone, then it was settled. He’d be whatever she needed—a sounding board, a refuge, another point of view.

“What’s going on up here, huh?” he asked when she looked up at him, one of his fingers tapping her temple lightly. It turned into a caress she leaned her cheek into. “You don’t usually sneak away from parties to go hang out in empty rooms.”

“It’s…” Allura’s eyes tracked back to the throne, shaped metal the same silver-white as most Altean architecture and inlaid with the aqua-colored glow panels. “That thing. I’ll sit on it tomorrow, and everyone will bow, and I’ll… it’s what I was _born_ to, but it terrifies me, Shiro, in a way I wasn’t expecting.”

“Well,” Shiro said, after a moment of thought. “That might not be such a bad thing. I think people in power should always be a little afraid of what they can do, and of what people can do for them. It keeps them humble. But I’ve seen you in action, remember? I _know_ you’ll be a great queen. You’ve already been doing it, anyway.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve missed your motivational speeches.” Allura huffed a laugh, but it didn’t sound convincing, and when he looked at her his heart ached to see her lower lip was trembling. “It’s just that… I’ve been leading our people for decaphebes, but somehow it will all be different tomorrow in a way I can’t quantify or grasp, and...”

She trailed off, burying her face in the front of his tunic, and all Shiro could do was wrap his arms around her, hold her close and press kisses to her hair until her shaking quieted. “No matter if we disagree on something, no matter what happens tomorrow or for the rest of our lives,” he whispered to her, “I’ll always have your back, Allura. I promised you that on our wedding day, and I’ll tell you that as many times as you need to hear it. You won’t be doing this alone.”

Allura smiled at him, cupping his face in her hands. The colors of the sky lit her hair in reds and golds, picked up the gems sewn into her dress and made them sparkle. She was a star made flesh, and he could hardly believe sometimes that he could hold her in his arms, or lean down and kiss her gently, sweetly.

“I know you’ll always be at my side, Shiro.” She kissed him again, their fingers twining together. “Besides, I’ve already had your circlet made, and I’ll put it on your head… tomorrow...”

She trailed off, looking up at the throne again. Shiro leaned over, touching their noses together briefly.

“Why don’t we practice?”

“Practice what? The coronation? We already had a rehearsal, Shiro, you were there… along with approximately fifty other people.”

“Obviously we can’t run the whole thing. But flying simulations always made me a bit more calm before the real thing, so maybe let’s just practice our part. _I’m_ pretty nervous to get up in front of the people here and whoever’s watching across the universe and kneel before you.”

“Nervous? Why?”

“Because I know your kicks _hurt_.” Shiro waited until she whipped around on him before grinning and kissing her cheek. “And because, well… it’s not something I’m used to. So how about it, Princess?”

“You only have a few more _vargas_ left to call me that.” But Allura swiped at her eyes and straightened, which was exactly the reaction Shiro had been hoping for. “All right, let’s practice. So.” She let go of his hand, picking up her skirts as she took the nine steps up to the throne and turned, sitting upon it in a flourish of silvery silks and gems. Lit by that one beam she was breathtaking, and it wasn’t until her expression became bemused that Shiro gave himself a little shake and remembered how the whole thing was supposed to go.

“So,” he said, “I walk up by myself, the first person to pledge my loyalty to you. Kinda redundant, I mean, we’re married, and I kind of spent years piloting a lion and deferring to you and all that, but...”

Allura’s lips twitched. “It’s the principle of the thing.”

“Right.” Shiro straightened, imagining he was wearing the _very_ formal Altean garb that had been made for him, dark blue and gold and silver, and a violet cape fastened at the shoulder with a clasp blazoned with the symbol of the Black lion. As though on military parade, he made his way to kneel just before the first riser, bowing his head. “I kneel here first.”

“And I beckon you forward. Come before me, Takashi Shirogane of Terra.” She delivered the last line in a voice that rang with authority and made a shiver ripple down his spine, and as he had in rehearsals, Shiro rose and climbed the steps, kneeling once more.

“I say, uh…” He looked up at her, watching her face as he spoke the words. “’I, Takashi Shirogane, pledge myself to Allura, Queen of Altea, Star-Savior, Light-Bringer, Defender of the Universe. Being of sound mind I put aside all other oaths and swear to uphold your reign, to be loyal only to you, until death takes me or my queen releases me.’”

Something in her expression had changed, her eyes heavy-lidded and a high flush on her cheeks as she rose, taking his chin in her fingers, her thumb stroking over his lips. _That_ wasn’t in the ceremony, but Shiro wasn’t going to complain about Allura touching him. He chased her thumb, pressing a kiss to the pad, and Allura swiped it across his mouth again, the tip just pressing inside. “Husband,” she said, and the pitch of her voice was low and private and _not_ what had been rehearsed. “I accept your oath, and style you Takashi, Prince Consort of the Queen of Altea, Far-Traveler, Shield-Bearer, Defender of the Universe.”

In rehearsal she’d lightly touched her fingertips to his forehead, symbolizing the circlet she’d place on him during the actual ceremony. Now, Allura rucked up her skirts and knelt opposite him, kissing him so fiercely he could not help but respond in kind, his hands going to her hair, pulling just the way she liked so that she gasped into his mouth, tilting her head back. He took the opportunity to shift his mouth to her throat, glad she’d worn an off-the-shoulder dress. Her skin here was soft and supple, and the neckline let the elegant scrolling marks on her collarbones show. Apart from the ones lower down, those were his favorites. Shiro ran a fingertip along one side and Allura made a noise he liked a _lot_.

“Don’t think this is part of the ceremony,” he said in her ear. Allura shivered, pulling his mouth back to hers.

“I really have no idea how I am supposed to contain myself,” she mumbled. “Seeing you kneeling before me makes me think of _other_ times you’ve done so. Other, more private times.”

Shiro grinned against her lips, pulling back a little. He loved seeing Allura like this, unguarded and open, her pupils wide and her skin flushed. He loved feeling _wanted_ by her, after everything he’d been through. “We probably have enough time to get to our room and back before you have to—“

“Mm. No, I have to go begin my meditations when the last sliver of the sun has disappeared from the sky, which...” she glanced outside. The sun was inching closer to the horizon, throwing off ever more colors as it did. “Not enough time. Unless...”

They looked at each other, and Shiro got what she was thinking a moment later. “Are you… sure? I mean, you have to sit on it all tomorrow.”

“It’ll make the ordeal more bearable.” Allura was already moving, shifting back onto her throne, and what could he do but move with her, kneel between her legs and let his hands slide up under her dress to pull her undergarments aside, feel with his fingers how she yielded easily to his touch. Alteans had _compatible anatomy_ , but it was different in subtle and very important ways which had led to months of very pleasant experimentation on both their parts. Once he’d worked _this_ out, though, Allura had gotten thoroughly addicted to the experience, and Shiro would be lying if he said that didn’t make him _very_ happy. He’d been complimented for his technique back at the Garrison by partners of all genders, and it was something of a point of pride.

But part of it was that he teased Allura open with his fingers, watching her eyes flutter closed and feeling her legs try to spread wider for him, watching her fingers flex on the arms of the throne as he slipped the fingers of his metal hand inside her. He curled them and Allura whimpered, a hand going to his hair, stroking it back from his face, gripping it tight and urging him forward. He resisted, his mouth going instead to her inner thigh, kissing her warm brown skin.

“Don’t queens have to be patient?”

“I’m not a queen yet, and you are making me _very_ impatient right now. Shiro, we don’t have much time, please...”

She shifted her hips forward, moving them closer to the edge of the seat. The scent of her was heady and his mouth watered, but Shiro resisted. The Black Paladin was meant to be calm and in control, and surely that extended to not simply burying his face between his wife’s legs at the first chance, especially when it was likely that he wouldn’t get the chance for a while. He wanted to savor the experience. And yet…

He pressed another kiss to her thigh, nipping just a little, and felt her jump. “I like this too much,” he said, curling his fingers again, gentle and slow as he rocked his hand against her. The tenderness wouldn’t last, they were both too wired, but it was nice. Leaning forward, he moved his lips higher, pressing kisses up along her thigh.

“I do too, but—oh, Shiro, _please_ , I, I want, mm...” Allura trailed off into a moan that became a frustrated noise when he passed over where she wanted him to go, and she yanked on his hair.

“What do you want, ‘lura?”

“I want your mouth on me,” she ground out, and let him go, shoving him away a little so she could wiggle her underwear off entirely. Then her hands were on his head again, urging him forward, and this time, Shiro went easily.

The first pass of his tongue made her gasp, and Shiro had to grab her hips until she stilled. The heel of one of her slippers was digging into his back but he didn’t care. He liked the little bit of pain, and he liked it more when it was from Allura, and he liked the way she gasped and whined as he bent his head to his work, tongue circling her clit (or, well, close enough to it), fingers still thrusting inside to hit the nerve bundle farther inside of her.

Sometimes, he timed it just right—a curl of his tongue, a thrust of his fingers, and Allura would have to stuff her fist into her mouth to muffle her cries, but her thighs would tighten around his head and her fingers would yank on his hair. Shiro paid _very_ close attention to when that would happen, bringing her to the edge again and again until at last she locked her thighs around him, keeping him in place.

“ _Finish what you’ve started_ ,” she whined. Shiro managed to get his head up, a moan escaping him when he saw her face flushed dark, her eyes touched gold in the light of the sunset, her marks pulsing just slightly in the dim light. Without complaint he did as she asked, one of his hands gripping her hips now to keep her from bucking too hard against him. When Allura lost control, she often forgot just how strong she was. Not always a bad thing, but not a good thing right now.

Above him, though, Allura twisted and whined and begged him for release as quietly as she could, tilting her hips until at last she made a strangled sound, her body going taut, every muscle standing out under her skin until she gasped, orgasm rocking her, making her jerk and spasm against his mouth. Shiro rode it out with her, his hand gripping her less tightly, stroking her leg instead. His metal hand was, well… stuck, for lack of a better term, until her body released his fingers. He used this to his advantage, working those fingers inside her and keeping up the pressure until she jerked feebly again, a high-pitched whine escaping her throat, her hands now weakly batting at his face.

“I can’t,” she whimpered, the muscles in her thighs spasming. “I, mm, Shiro, it feels so good but I can’t again—“

He pulled his mouth away, leaning his cheek against her thigh as he watched her eyelashes flutter, waiting for her to come back to herself. “Feel better?” he asked softly, when the muscles inside her had loosened enough to let him pull his fingers out and suck them clean. Allura watched him do this, breathing heavily still.

“It drives me mad when you do that,” she breathed, and pulled him up so she could kiss him, her tongue snaking into his mouth to taste herself on him, humming when she had her fill.

“I’ll remember _you_ want to clean me up next time.”

“See that you do.” Allura was looking at him softly, her fingers stroking his cheek as he breathed through his own arousal. Altean pants were _tight_. “Thank you.”

“For what? I’ll do this for you every day if you want, Allura, you don’t have to thank me.”

She smacked his shoulder—lightly. “No! Thank you for making sure I’m not alone, and for helping me overcome my fears.”

_That_ he had to kiss her for. This one was sweet and gentle, his hand cupping her face. “Always,” he said against her lips. “Now, I think there’s still a party next door, and you have to make an appearance before you go meditate for the night.”

Nobody seemed the wiser when they walked back into the ballroom, although Coran raised an eyebrow and made a significant look at the windows, where the sun was about a third hidden behind the horizon. Allura, unfairly, seemed to look completely normal, not a hair out of place. Shiro felt like everyone could tell exactly what he’d been doing, but the fact he was still flushed didn’t help.

When it was time, he walked with Allura to the chamber she’d spend the night in. His heart ached a little; they didn’t spend many nights apart, and he knew the bed would feel extra empty tonight. But he kissed the marks on her cheeks, her forehead, and at last her mouth, and felt her fingers curl into his tunic.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Princess,” he said. Allura gave him a look.

“In the morning, my paladin,” she replied, and rested her fingertips on his cheek before turning and entering the room.

*

Allura watched as Shiro knelt at her feet, his head bowed, his voice being carried by the microphones as he pledged himself to her again, body and soul. He wasn’t crying this time, but she could hear the raw emotion in his voice as he spoke the oath, the pride he felt for her, the joy.

Gesturing the assistant over, she rose and took the silver circlet in her fingers, raising it up before lowering it onto Shiro’s head. The stone in the center of his forehead came to life as she accepted his oath, and at the brush of her fingers on his cheek her looked up at her—and _winked_.

Allura hoped nothing showed on her face as she bid him rise and take his place beside her. He was grinning, but that could easily be chalked up to what had just happened. She hoped.

“You are a _menace_ ,” she hissed through her teeth, when the oaths of fealty had been completed for everyone, when the visiting heads of state had in turn accepted her into their midst (a funny thing, considering she’d been dealing with them for decaphebes at this point), and she and Shiro were recessing down the center aisle.

“I have _no_ idea what you’re talking about.” Shiro dodged her finger when she tried to poke him in the side once they got back to the antechamber and grinned again, kissing her, holding her hands in his, and the joy in her heart overrode any lingering irritation.

“We did it,” she whispered. Shiro’s thumbs rubbed over her cheek marks.

“We did,” he agreed. “Now c’mon. Let’s go meet everyone, Queen Allura.”


End file.
